A little while back I put myself through two hours of so called acting when I watched Point Break, the film based on a group of President, mask-wearing bandits who rob banks, and the emotional conflict endured by one member of the gang who is in fact a policeman attempting to infiltrate their efforts. Before the credits were rolling it had made my list of 'worst film ever', which, at the time, solely compromised of Arnold Schwarzenegger’s Last Action Hero.

However, I recall, as a child (an impressionable one at that) watching Keanu and Swayze in the same film and thinking it was fantastic. So what's changed? Keanu has always been a bad actor, and the film hasn't deteriorated over time (it was as awful then as it is now), so that leads me to believe that I have changed. Here is where my incessant rambling comes to ahead, as last weekend, to highlight my change, I experienced something new - something as a child I could never envisage doing: I went to the Sydney Symphony Orchestra.

I have always told myself that, later in life, I'd like to attend the Last Night of the Proms. I annually tune into the Beeb's coverage, just to see and hear the patriotism oozing around the Royal Albert hall. Moreover, I actually enjoy the music, and last Saturday (24th) I couldn't let pass the symphony orchestra's appearance at the Domain, a massive stretch of green grass situated near the Opera House and Harbour Bridge. I am not going to lie, I am not at the stage yet of being able to dissect the two hour show, but I know what I like and we both enjoyed what we heard. To help us through the night we took a picnic and some plonk, and come the end we joined the thousands of others who gave a standing ovation as one of Tchicosky’s numbers’ was playing. (See what I mean about not being at the dissecting stage?)

My newly found sense of culture was shortly undone, however. For the past two Saturday nights I have stumbled out of the pub past 4am, what with either the football to keep me occupied or many of Sydney's pubs. The first Saturday (24th) I caught up with a few mates and we duly managed to get wasted. (One of my mates - who shall remain nameless - was already wasted as he had been on the biscuits. All of this occurred immediately after the opera so you can see why my culture intake had been erased).

The second of these two debauched Saturdays (31st) followed a meal I had with Lysey and her parents (it would be a bit weird of it was just me and them) as we celebrated her birthday. Even though it's not until the 3/2 - one day after our first year anniversary - we took advantage of the weekend. To celebrate we went to a Brazilian all-you-can-eat BBQ. I know very little about Brazilian culinary, but I certainly didn't leave that place feeling hungry (or sober). Round two of the night proceeded to take place in a nearby watering hole and the drinking continued at a fast pace, especially between her dad and myself. Come the end of the night he was a mess.

During the night, we were talking away and we got onto the subject about my non-existent ability to drive. On my first visit to the family home in Goulburn her dad, who is mad on cars, took me out for a spin in his Subaru. The streets of Goulburn, for those five minutes or so, were transformed from a leafy residential area to Silverstone. Prior to putting my seatbelt on he was telling me that he added a 'HFJ 56 to the carburetor' or a FGNF32 to the exhaust - basically stuff I know nothing about, but I assumed he wasn’t aware of this. (I am aware that none of the above actually exists. In fact, I don’t know that for sure, so if they do it’s nothing more than a sheer coincidence). Because I was attempting to please him I nodded and added to the conversation as best I could. However, on the Saturday night, and after he had a few beers he told me he knew I had no clue about cars. Clearly, my attempts to keep the conversation going were awful.

Nonetheless, it was a really good night, but I wasn’t ready for bed. Having walked Lysey home I went back into town to catch up with a mate of mine, who has had a desire to go to a proper nightclub in Sydney. Of course, he came to the right man, as I took him to a place that has been voted in the top 100 ‘clubs of the world (I think Dellers polled at 98 in that list, two spots behind Shout) – the Chinese Laundry. The place, a former laundry would you have guessed it, regularly hosts’ international acts and DJs and that weekend (31/1) was no exception: Paul Woolford, a bloody British legend, was headlining and all in attendance (that would be a lot of us) lapped it up.

I haven’t been in many laundries in my life, but the main room is known as the Cave, simply because of its appearance. The low ceilings and underground aura add something extra to a nightclub in my opinion, and I reckon not many laundries would be similar in appearance.

Besides, I was more than happy to go underground because on the surface it’s too hot here in Australia. I gather there has been some news coverage shown back home of the severe heats currently being experienced in Australia. We also take a fair share of news about the snow in Britain, and believe me, I would swap places with you tomorrow. I am over waking up sweating, or walking to work at 630am in blazing sunshine. Like I say to people here, if one is cold you can put a jumper on, but if that very person is hot there isn’t a lot one can do. To give you an indication of how hot it is, my hair product – Dax Wax, a tough putty – literally turned into liquid last weekend (24th) even though it is stored in the bathroom cupboard. This image, I am sure you’ll agree, is much more fitting than any bush fire the media reports.

Moving on, project New Zealand is most definitely a goer, but there is still many a hurdle to clear. To be honest, it's starting to stress me out. To start with, I required a chest x-ray in order to complete my visa application as prior to coming to Australia I spent three months in Asia. As I filled in my application I was tempted to lie about my travels, but if anyone from NZ immigration glanced at the various passport stamps inside I would have some explaining to do (and I'd probably be on the next plane home for lying to immigration). The only positive I can find in this rigmarole (I had to wait a week for the ray and a further week for my results, thus delaying my application further) is that I haven't got TB, the very thing they were searching for. As I collected my results on Wednesday (28th - directly after leaving the pub as I was watching the Tottenham Stoke game) I asked the lass behind the counter if I had passed, to which she said yes.

The actual x-ray itself set me back $84. I was nervous that morning, as I am with anything doctor related (I think I have a phobia. I don't like the way a stranger can dictate one's life with the simplest piece of information) so I was relieved that it only took two seconds to complete. All I had to do was take my top off, stand against a board and breathe in. In total I have paid $204 (about 90 quid) for my visa, which isn't too bad considering I paid over 100 quid for my Australian visa.

In hindsight, my application has proven to be the easiest part. Lysey, who let's face it, is only going to New Zealand because of me, is struggling to find work. Her current employer, IHG (a hotel brand) have invested time and money in her, so rightly they want to see a return on that. Therefore, she has been seeking a transfer from Sydney to any branch over the Tasman. However, because of the economic climate, jobs are sparse, and the only one available required her to fulfill an interview. That took over an hour and a half, and she is not guaranteed the job in the Auckland branch because there are strong internal candidates vying for the job of reservations manager. She should have been informed of an outcome last Thursday (29th), but they have been very slack; they failed to inform her that they are awaiting a final interviewee. Therefore, they are going to make a decision on Tuesday (3/2).

Understandably, it's clear to see the stress I am encountering. Furthermore, if Lysey does get the job she may be required to start on the 9/2. How can she prepare her life in such a short space of time? Moreover, I doubt I will have my visa through by then. On the flip side, if she doesn't get the job I don't know what she'll do over there. Her current contract ended at the start of February, but they have offered her a casual contract for a month. After that, if she doesn't get the job in NZ, who knows what will happen. Like I said, there are too many variables.